Hreinn
by Rae An
Summary: "All right, I'll tell you. I'll tell you about the time I was a young girl, barely out of her teens... living on a poor pig farm. Our farm was attacked by bandits. They killed my entire family who didn't even brandish a weapon against them. Here's the best part. They took me as a prize and violated me for a fortnight. Tossed me around from bandit to bandit like... like..."
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Sapphire is a member of the thieves guild with a rough backstory and something against her real name. If you ask her about her real name, she goes through a spiel about losing everything to a group of bandits. I thought it might be interesting to explore her past, so here's my take on it. I won't beg for reviews, but I really would appreciate it if you would take the time to write something whether you liked it or not. Rated T for language, violence, and whatever else you might expect from the dialogue below.

* * *

"Something had to happen that made you this angry."

"Look, you want to know about me? All right, I'll tell you. I'll tell you about the time I was a young girl, barely out of her teens... living on a pig farm in the middle of nowhere. Didn't have a coin to spend between our entire family. Ate the same slop we fed our livestock."

"Sounds horrible."

"Oh, wait. It gets better. How about the fact that our farm was attacked by bandits, that they killed my entire family who didn't even brandish a weapon against them. Here's the best part. They took me as a prize and violated me for a fortnight. Tossed me around from bandit to bandit like... like..."

"You don't have to keep going..."

* * *

She knew he was mad. One of the chickens had gone missing. She didn't know where, but it was gone. They only had three chickens and two pigs. Now they only had two chickens and two pigs.

Her father leaned against the doorway of the shack they called a house. His hand covered his face while she stood before him with a drooping visage.

"Just get inside, Hreinn," he growled through his fingers. She hiked her tattered skirt and stepped into the shack. Mother had prepared some vegetables, a feast as compared to the last week's dinners. Hreinn slumped into a rickety chair at the family table, a slab of wood balancing poorly on four rough stilts. Her two brothers, one younger and one older, already sat waiting for the food.

No words were spoken as Mother set the pan of cooked vegetables in the center of the table and each sibling served his and herself. Father stomped outside and slammed the front door with a growl of frustration. Hreinn dipped her head lower as she fingered the food before her.

After a few minutes of Father's absence from the family dinner, Mother stood.

"I'm going to talk to your father," she said as she left. Hreinn felt her throat constrict and her eyes burn.

"It'll be okay, Hreinn," her younger brother encouraged with a small smile. She sniffed.

"Thanks." Hreinn was old enough to realize the destitution her family faced. Every day was a struggle to find food or clothing, and she wanted to help support them as best she could with what little resources she had. But she couldn't even keep track of a chicken.

There was a ruckus outside: clanging of metal, heavy footsteps, and loud shouting—not her Father's. Her older brother shot up, rocking the table, and dashed to the door. Before he reached it, a large man, covered in steel plate armor, shattered through the doorway. He held a long pike. For a second her brother stared. Then instantly the man shoved his weapon through her brother's gut. She saw the blade glisten in her brother's back.

"No!" she screamed and jumped from the table. Hreinn heard the blade slice through his muscles as the man tore it from his body.

As he fell to the ground, Hreinn saw through the doorway, her mother. Another burly man held Mother's throat, constricting her airway.

"Stop!" her father shouted. "Leave her!"

Father struggled as he was restrained by two other men. Now Hreinn reached her dying brother. Blood trickled from his lips, and grew cold as he drew his last wheezing breaths. She clutched at his face as shock raked her limbs.

"Why," she rasped.

"Get up!" the armored man sneered. A blow from his boot knocked the breath from her body. And as she struggled on the floor, she watched through blurred vision as her mother was dropped like a doll from the man's iron hold around her neck. She crumpled to the ground, motionless.

The steel plated man gripped Hreinn's arm and jerked her up. Another man started for her younger brother, cowering behind the table. The man hefted her brother over his shoulder as her brother began sobbing. While the armored man dragged Hreinn out of the shack, she saw her mother laying on the ground, her kind face bloated and white. Hreinn could only watch as they shoved her brother into the chicken coup where they had herded the one chicken and the two pigs. Someone brought a torch, and she realized what was happening. She began kicking and beating with all her might as they set fire to the poor structure. She heard her brother screaming. She screamed for him.

A fist drove once into her side.

She kicked again.

A fist drove twice into her side.

She felt a crack.

"Hreinn!" Her father's voice. "Enough!" She knew he couldn't bear to see her hurt anymore.

"So, old man, where is it?" the armored man shouted after a final blow to Hreinn. Father remained silent. Hreinn heard the chicken coup crackling.

"Your gold! Where is it?" he yelled again. Bandits. They were bandits.

"We have nothing," Father answered calmly. The men holding his arms threw him to the ground.

One grabbed his hair pulling Father's chin to the sky as he kneeled in the mud and placed a dagger at Father's thin, bearded throat.

"Tell us where it is!" the armored man bellowed again.

"There is nothing," Father answered. The man rolled his eyes and growled in frustration.

"We'll burn the whole, damn thing down anyways," he said with a nod. And the man with the dagger drew it across Father's throat, the slit spewing blood as Father fell with his face into the mud.

"No!" Hreinn sobbed.

"You," the armored man addressed Hreinn, "shut it!" The bandits threw Mother's and Father's bodies into the house and set the little shack ablaze. Hreinn slumped, defeated, as her chest throbbed and throat pulsed. Everything she knew was gone. It wasn't much, but it was gone. Just like the chicken, it was gone.

The bandits gathered around the steel plated man, their leader, as the burning house warmed their backs. They would kill her. Hreinn had watched all of her family cease to exist and now it was her turn.

The armored man who still clutched her arm, threw her into the ground before the group—about fifteen of them. She didn't have the strength to get up. Her side and heart ached too badly.

"So, boys," the bandit leader said as he drew a dagger. This was it. "Should we keep her?"

Hreinn jerked her head up. She was prepared to die, but she wasn't prepared for this. Not this.

"Keep her!" was the consensual shout. She saw one shout "Kill her!" and then the man beside him backhanded his skull.

"Alright," the bandit leader said. "As almost all of you mutts seem to agree, I think we'll keep this little jewel. Tie her up!"

Some men grabbed her roughly and tightened a rope around her wrists. She couldn't even resist as they pulled her from her burning home and family. Tears dripped quietly from Hreinn's eyes as they trudged on.

"Don't you cry, girl," the man leading her rope said. He turned and walked back towards her, a treacherous smirk stretching through his thin beard. His grimy, bloody hands found either side of her waist. At the touch her injured ribs began throbbing painfully. Hreinn grimaced and shut her eyes.

"We'll have a grand time when we reach camp," the man breathed as he slid his hands up her sides. Some of the bandits nearby chuckled. The leader at the front, noticing the delay shouted, "Let's move, men!"

The bandit holding Hreinn dropped his hands with a smile and continued jerking her along behind him.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I know it's not much so far, but there are more chapters to come. Again, please let me know what you thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Another relatively short chapter, but the more lengthy ones are close at hand. Thanks to those who took the time to review last chapter, and if you're reading this now I would really appreciate it if you did the same. I'd love to know what you think, whether it be positive or negative.

* * *

It was late into the night when the band finally reached the cave. Hreinn was wheezing as a bone in her side jutted sorely and her feet throbbed with blisters inside her rugged shoes caked with evidence of the road. The entrance to the hideout sunk down into the ground, and a group of boulders hung over it, obscuring it from the eye of the casual viewer. The bandits filed into the hole and down a steep, rocky corridor lit with a lanterns. The hallway led to a large open space with pointed cone rocks jutting from the ceiling and ground. A table stood in the open space.

"Good work today, men," the leader said. "Rest and eat. Drink all you need. And Hagall—" The man leading Hreinn looked up, alert. "Take her to my quarters."

Hagall angrily pulled Hreinn through twists and turns and more open rooms, all the while muttering "take her to my quarters," mocking the bandit leader. Some rooms had beds; some had tables. One had a bar and a large pin with wooden fences. Finally the two emerged into a cave with a huge shelf of rock against the back. Atop this shelf was built a wooden shack, about as big as Hreinn's house. A lattice of stairways and ramps led up to the shelf. When they reached the top Hagall threw Hreinn into the doorway of the shack, and she crumpled to the ground.

"Enjoy yourself tonight, girl," he spat. "But tomorrow it'll be my turn."

Hreinn sat, shaking, as he slammed the door. Her side ached. It bulged and swelled under her dress. One of her ribs must surely be cracked or broken.

She was so hungry. Perhaps the bandit chief kept food around somewhere—there on a small table, among papers and inkwells: a loaf of bread, some cheese, and an apple. The food was a feast. She sat on her knees and struggled somewhat with her hands tied together. She stuffed the bread and cheese into her mouth, fearful that the man would intrude at any moment. The apple was tricky, but Hreinn managed to devour it also, savoring the sweet juice seeping from its flesh. Hreinn leaned back against one of the legs of the table, satisfied for the moment. Her ribs pulsed with pain. Then, pulling herself up on the corner of the table, she began searching the room.

_This man must have a blade lying around somewhere._

On the bedside table lay a knife with a glistening blade about half the length of her forearm. Holding it in one hand, she managed to saw through the bonds around her wrists. As the last piece of twine fell away, she heard deep bellows of laughter outside the shack. She froze for a moment. Now was her time to prepare. This knife was her only chance for escape. She clutched the weapon and held her hands behind her, sinking to the floor as she slid her back down the rough wall.

The bandit chief opened the door as he laughed over his shoulder at someone outside. Hreinn watched him shut and bolt it tightly. Hreinn hadn't seen the man's face very well before, but now he removed his helmet and revealed his features. He appeared middle-aged with cropped brown hair and a close-shaven stubble covering his jaws. A deep scar, puckered and discolored, ran from his left cheekbone to his jawline. His eyes were a pale blue, startling against the black shadows around his eye sockets. They were locked in a permanent scowl by his slanted brows.

The man stripped away his remaining armor and threw the pieces into a chest. Now a knife would more easily slip into his abdomen. He approached, bare chested, in her direction.

"Up," he muttered, flicking his wrist to the roof. Slowly she stood, feeling splinters in the wood against her back snag at her dress. He came and placed an arm on either side of her head against the wall behind. His body reeked of grime and ale. Her side ached so badly.

"You know, I heard about you from a merchant on the road," the man rasped into her face, alcohol thick on his breath. "Said you were one of the most beautiful creatures he'd seen in a long time. I don't think he was lying, little jewel." His smirk unnerved her.

"Who would've thought that something like you was to be found way out there," he breathed. "Just hiding away on a penniless farm with an ignorant, old geezer."

Hreinn choked back tears as the man laughed.

He slid a hand down to her neck.

"What did your poor, old father call you?" the chief purred. "Hreinn? That was it."

He chuckled viciously. "Ancient Nordic for _pure_, isn't it? What a shame."

She whipped her arm from behind her back and drove the blade towards the man. He was quick though and pulled a little to the side. The knife scraped through his waist, and he bent in pain, clutching at the slit in his skin. Hreinn darted out of his reach and bounded for the door. Something caught her dress on one of the hanging tatters near her ankle. She turned her head midstride to see that the man had dived across the floor and now lay, arm extended, clutching a fistful of her skirts. An opening in the fabric darted up her leg from calf to hip as the scream of threads tearing from each other like tendons ripped through the room. Another tug from the hand at the floor brought Hreinn and all her momentum down, laying her out flat and facedown. She struggled to rise, and in a flash the bandit leader was sitting astride her back, crushing her lungs and injured bones with his weight. She clenched her jaws and yelled as her body exploded with pain. Grunting and growling like an animal, he wrestled the knife from her stiff hand and hilted her sharply in the back of the head. The blunt blast dazed her, and she saw him rise and place the knife in the same chest that he had the armor. When he stalked back to her he lifted her with one arm lodged under both of hers and locked around her chest, swinging her up like a straw doll. As he threw her onto the animal skins on the bed, her vision spun. He stood for a moment, gently touching his oozing wound.

"You'll pay dearly for that," he growled, a faint grin lurking at his lips.

Then he was on top of her. She struggled to think and act as he tugged at the shoulders of her dress. Her mind was so blurred and blotches of inky black pulsed before her eyes. Her side ached. She whimpered in frustration, eyes fluttering to keep her conscious. She felt a hand down her side and a mouth at her neck as a bristly jaw scraped all over her skin. His fresh blood smeared across her body as his torso smothered hers. She wanted it to stop. Hreinn managed to bring her hands to his dripping chest, and she pushed weakly at the heaving body.

"Please," she rasped. "No."

With a breathy laugh he pinned her arms to her side. Hreinn grimaced as his forearm brushed her throbbing side. Hreinn felt him moving between her legs and then the pain. She bit her lip until it bled to keep herself from crying out. Even after everything she knew was taken from her that day, this man still found something to seize for himself from her. She shut her eyes as tears squeezed through her lashes. Hreinn was losing her grip on consciousness. She didn't care. It would be a relief.

Her ribs ached.


	3. Chapter 3

Hreinn woke as her eyes flicked open.

_No sunlight. _

"Brother?" she placed a hand beside her, searching for a body.

_No brother._

She felt straw prick her legs and chill lick her sides.

_No clothes._

Then she looked at herself and saw the bruises riddling her skin—her arms, her legs, her neck—and the chief's blood smeared like a ruined painting over her stomach and side. The sight of her bare, discolored body reminded her of what had happened. She was ashamed and scared. Her father would be angry. Her father. He wasn't here. None of them were. They were all dead. Her memory built upon itself, every image fresher and brighter than the last. She saw her brother, a blade through his back; her mother sprawled on the ground, pale and bloated; her father, face down in the mud as his throat poured blood that mingled with the muck. Everything had happened suddenly. Everyone was dead, and there was nothing she could do. She had nothing left. Hreinn felt the heat of tears rise to her eyes.

She let them fall. They flowed. Her breath began to catch with her emotion and tremors racked her body, sending jolts of pain through her nerves. The waves of sorrow surged closer and soon overtook her. She lay convulsing and holding in screams of agony, both physical and emotional. Hreinn didn't think, her feelings thought for her and drew her into another dimension. As she squeezed her eyes shut against the world, nothing existed besides the breath racing through her throat and the sobs that forced their way back out. The only sound she heard was the screams of her brother as he burned, and all she felt was the hot breath of the man on her neck. Her heart had been torn and she felt it bleeding out. She wouldn't last much longer.

Suddenly a voice jerked her back to the world.

"Get dressed now!" a man yelled, grabbing her by her arm and flinging her from the bed.

She cried out as the fall to the ground jarred her bruised side, and pain rippled through her body. She huddled on the floor, eyes still refusing the sight of reality, clutching at her pulsing side.

The figure standing over her glared in contempt. "Come on, get up!"

When she pulled herself first to her knees and then to her feet, her torso felt as if it would rip in half. Slowly and shakily she managed to slide her legs into her dress, now even more torn than before, a huge flap hanging in the skirt where the chief had ripped it. Gingerly she eased her arms through the sleeves and straightened to face the man before her, his head towering over hers. When she met his eyes, she saw that he was surprisingly young—not much older than she. For a moment she caught a shadow of compassion flash across his features at the sight of the girl, only as old as he, with tearstained cheeks and a body trembling in pain.

Then his face hardened again and his mouth cracked in a grin.

"You gave the chief quite a time last night," the young bandit snickered. "All that ruckus isn't usual."

_Usual?_ He must have been the man to whom the bandit leader was talking before he came in last night.

"Would you," she began timidly, "would you tie up my dress?" She couldn't reach the back.

He laughed.

"You might as well just leave it," he scoffed.

"Please," Hreinn asked again.

She jerked as the bandit suddenly gripped her chin in his hand, tilting her head towards his. He bent down and moved his face closer to hers and she grimaced at the proximity.

"Look, girl, from now on, we own you. You do as we say. You do as we want, no matter if you like it or not," he breathed. Angrily he flung her chin away with a flick of his wrist.

"Now let's go," he growled as he pulled her by her arm, inciting pain to emanate from every injury on her body. They walked from the shack and made their way down the stairways and ramp ways to the floor. Hreinn hobbled pitifully down the sets of stairs and nearly fell when the man dragging her along thought her pace too slow. All the while Hreinn tugged at her tattered dress attempting to keep it on her shoulders.

At the bottom of the stairs and ramps Hreinn looked around the cave. It was lit but no torches were in sight. The light was more natural than that of man-concocted fire. There, in the ceiling of the cave, an opening gaped, exposing the cavern to the outside world. A golden, healthy light, filtered green by vegetation overhanging the hole, flooded through the rocky window. Around the small shack played curious shadows in tandem with erratic highlights shining on the wooden planks of the siding. The glow illuminated the cavern and glinted off the dust motes mingling with the air and caressed the moldy faces of the cold boulders, beckoning them to a brilliant life of color. The whole effect left an onlooker dazed and awestruck by the display of unexpected light and vibrancy found in the recesses of a cave.

_So the sun still does shine_, Hreinn marveled with a meek joy.

The man before her didn't give the spectacle a second glance as he dragged her on into a cramped hallway.

"Where are we going?" Hreinn asked quietly.

"To get you put back together," the man said. "Rest of the men are ready for their share."

Hreinn's heart beat fast. Not again. She didn't want that again.

After many turns and rocky hallways and more beautiful sights that the bandit ignored they stopped at an overhang to a low-ceilinged alcove at the end of a secluded corridor. In the room a bed stood against the left wall and a closed door was planted in the right one. Hreinn saw inside a small enchanting table, shelves of ingredients and books, and a mixing table at which stood a hooded figure, scantily clad in patchwork furs.

"Elisa," the man called. The hooded figure looked up from its work.

"Yes?" answered a woman's voice. It was young and smooth, catlike.

"I've got a girl here. Needs a little fixin' up," he said shakily. Hreinn detected fear in his voice.

The woman padded towards the couple. "I'll see what I can't do."

Gently she took Hreinn's arm from the man, not aggressively as the other bandits had.

"Now you," she addressed him, "get out." Her tone was flat and commanding.

The man hung his head and darted away, leaving Hreinn under the scrutinizing eyes of this woman. Despite her intimidating demeanor, the figure wasn't much taller than herself. She unclasped Hreinn's arm and pulled off her hood. Hreinn had never seen anyone like the person before her. The woman had almond-shaped eyes, large and forest green, set under dark eyebrows that were slanted sharply and fixed in concentration and austerity. Under her left eye two dots of red were painted, and curving around the outside of that eye was a similarly burgundy crescent. Her small lips were pursed, and her nose was slender. Her skin was an olive-tan and very smooth. Hreinn felt that this person was older than she appeared. The woman's hair was a chestnut mane, hinting a deep red, that was parted far on one side and shaved short while the other section of her hair cascaded over her head and down in shimmering waves with braids and beads to her shoulder. The woman retained a kind of exotic beauty. But what caught Hreinn's eye were her ears. They were like human ears but tapered to a point at the tips, and in one, a few gold rings hung from the cartilage. They were elf ears.

"You're an elf," Hreinn stated. It was more of a question than an observation.

"Indeed," the woman, Elisa, replied, "a Bosmer to be exact."

"I've never seen one," Hreinn said.

"You're going to have to take that off," Elisa said, gesturing towards Hreinn's dress. She caught the look of fear that flashed across Hreinn's face. Elisa sighed.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she consoled coldly, one eyebrow raised. Hreinn nodded and eyed Elisa as she began pulling down her dress. As she bent a bolt of pain flashed up her side, and a sharper one knifed inside her. Hreinn gasped and straightened, shutting her eyes.

"I need help," Hreinn requested. Elisa then realized the pitiful state of the creature before her. She remembered her first time. It had been painful. But of course she had chosen to lay with the man.

Elisa stepped closer to the girl. Hreinn twitched like a frightened rabbit.

"Turn," Elisa ordered. She unlaced Hreinn's dress completely to minimize the contortion to remove it. To create a barrier between Hreinn's tender skin and the fabric, Elisa slipped her hands under the dress at the shoulders and slid them down. She felt Hreinn shudder slightly.

As Elisa's long, slender fingers were on Hreinn's arms, a man, young and bare chested, skidded from a dash to a halt before Elisa's doorway.

"I see you two are enjoying yourselves," he giggled. Elisa's glare made him silent.

"I'm busy. What is it?" Elisa demanded.

"Ah, well, Chief wants you to mix up a few of those poultices for cuts," he replied. "He got sliced yesterday at our last loot."

_Not yesterday, last night_,thought Hreinn.

Elisa removed her hands from Hreinn and placed them on her hips.

"Speaking of our last loot, where's my share of it?" she asked indignantly.

"That's all we brought back," the man answered, smirking and pointing to Hreinn. "But it looks like you're enjoying your _share_, Elisa."

A small ball of fire shot from Elisa's hand and withered at the man's heels as he dashed out of the room snickering. Hreinn had never seen anyone do that before.

"Pull your arms out," Elisa said, holding the sleeves down.

"How did you do that?" Hreinn asked as she disentangled her arms. Elisa grimaced at the display of color splotching the girl's skin. She could see bruising made by fingers that had dug into the girl's arms.

"It's magic," she replied. "Put your legs together so I can get this dress over your hips."

Hreinn made an attempt to touch her heels.

"I can't do much better than this," she said. "It hurts too badly."

"Then I'll have to take it over your head." Elisa squatted and lifted the dress from the bottom. She drew the fabric over the girl's head and dropped it onto the floor. The sight before her was unnerving. The girl stood in nothing but her smallclothes, covered in bruises, dirt, and blood, and wrapped in her own arms, shivering.

Elisa sighed. "Alright," she consigned. Sometimes she didn't care for what the other bandits did. She simply stayed out of their business.

"I'll be just a moment," Elisa said. And she walked back through the door that Hreinn had seen in the wall. Inside was what Hreinn assumed to be Elisa's room. She caught sight of a bed and a dresser before Elisa returned and shut the door, a dripping cloth in hand.

"You're so covered in grime, I can hardly tell what's a bruise and what's a dash of dirt," Elisa commented as she approached Hreinn. "I don't want to waste energy on something that can be fixed with a wet rag."

She started with Hreinn's face, carefully wiping at the dirt and dust powdering her skin. Elisa began running the cloth gently over Hreinn's discolored arms, attempting to avoid the bruising. The rag was warm and soothed Hreinn's stiff muscles and aching limbs. As Elisa moved down to Hreinn's stomach she rubbed away the splotchy blood, unable to even find the source of it. Hreinn's breath caught sharply as Elisa brushed the swollen area of her ribs.

"I'm sorry," Elisa breathed, concentrating on removing the rest of the grime from the girl's legs.

When she finished, Elisa stood. "There, that's a start," she said with a smile as she tossed the rag onto the bed against the wall. However, the sight of the battered girl was still sickening.

Elisa chose a weak healing spell and began with the bruising on Hreinn's arms. A yellow light glowed in Elisa's hand and tendrils licked around Hreinn's arm as Elisa worked. Hreinn watched in amazement as the color on her forearm and then up to her shoulder returned to normal, and the throbbing pain subsided. Her skin tingled and crawled as the ribbons of light caressed her body.

Elisa worked her way down to Hreinn's abdomen. _One, two, three, four…_ Elisa could count the girl's ribs. Except on her left side. It was swollen and bruised purple and blue. Elisa kneeled to look closer as she prepared a different healing spell. With one hand steadying the girl on her waist and another gentle hand placed on the protruding injury, she began to work. Hreinn twisted as she felt bones and muscle writhe under her skin. But it was over quickly, and Elisa had moved to attend to the injuries on her legs. When all the marks and bruising had been erased, she stood.

"How do you feel?" Elisa questioned.

Hreinn gingerly spread her arms and rotated her torso. She nodded in satisfaction when there was no pain.

"Nothing hurts," Hreinn answered.

"Then I believe I'm finished," Elisa said, running a hand through her dark hair. "You can put that back on." She pointed at the shredded dress.

After Hreinn slipped into her clothing, she asked Elisa to lace up her dress.

"Of course," Elisa answered stepping towards Hreinn. "You know I could patch this up for you if you want. I've got a few tools laying around."

"Thank you," Hreinn replied.

"Sit over there." Elisa gestured to the low bed against the wall as she rummaged around the room among shelves and chests. She approached Hreinn holding a needle and focusing intently on threading a thick piece of yarn through its eye.

"Ah there," Elisa triumphed as she forced the yarn through. She knelt by Hreinn's side and began stitching the long rip in her skirt, starting near her hip. She talked as she worked.

"What's your name?" Elisa asked.

"It's Hreinn."

Elisa hesitated for a moment in her concentrated stitching. _Pure. What cruel irony,_ she thought sadly.

"If you haven't already picked up from the dirtbags invading my workspace, my name's Elisa," she replied.

"It's nice to meet you," Hreinn said.

Elisa hesitated again. Those were words that she hadn't heard in a long time. The girl was full of surprises.

"Where did you come from?" Hreinn asked. She was too curious about the woman kneeling in front of her to comply with common courtesies.

Elisa let out a quick laugh. Backstories weren't a usual conversation topic among a group of bandits.

"I was born in Valenwood," she said, "and then moved to the Imperial City. I spent a few years there, but eventually I made the trek up to Skyrim for the College of Winterhold. I've lived in Winterhold and Riften and Markarth… A little while in Solitude."

"I've lived all my life in the Reach. Close to Karthwasten," Hreinn replied. "Until… yesterday."

For a moment Elisa's heart pulsed with sadness, but then she hardened herself towards the girl whose dress she sewed. Life as a bandit didn't allow room for compassion or attachment. She worked quietly for a while.

"Why weren't you there yesterday?" Hreinn questioned.

Elisa clenched her teeth. She wished they would avoid this.

"I was working on a new spell," she explained. "Close to a breakthrough."

"Did you get it?"

Elisa clenched her fist and then flung open her hand in the direction of Hreinn's face. A blast of air buffeted Hreinn's cheeks and tore at her hair and Hreinn shut her eyes against it. Elisa closed her fist again and the gust subsided.

"Yes, I did," Elisa answered with a grin. "And that's just the minimum of its power."

"Amazing," Hreinn lauded.

"It is, isn't it," Elisa speculated as she tied the string off at the end of the new seam in Hreinn's skirt. The elf stood and offered a hand to Hreinn who took it and rose from the bed.

"That should hold for a while." Elisa studied Hreinn's face. She searched for a sign of emotion in her tired, amber eyes, a touch of feeling along the hard lines of her round, dry lips. The girl was empty. She had no tears left to cry.

"Are you very hungry?" Elisa asked.

Right on cue, Hreinn's stomach spoke for itself with a rumbling gurgle.

"I believe so," she answered.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I promised there'd be a longer one soon! If you have any, let me know your thoughts on Elisa with a review.


	4. Chapter 4

Hreinn followed Elisa through the caverns out to a large hall with several tables already laden with food. Surprisingly no one else was there. It was the most food Hreinn had seen in her life. Two long tables with benches on either side held the bulk of the feast. There were entire chickens and wedges of cheese; slabs of deer meat and mountains of fruit; and piles of bread and kegs of ale.

"Eat whatever you want," Elisa said, sitting down on one of the benches and snatching an apple from a basket. Hreinn picked up an empty plate and began filling it with everything available. She stacked chicken on top of venison and bread and cheese on top of those. Whatever space was left on the plate she filled with apples, pears, and lettuce. Sitting across from Elisa, who rested an elbow on the table and took bites of the apple, Hreinn began downing the food. Elisa watched in awe as the bread and cheese disappeared, followed quickly by the meat and fruit. Hreinn rose again and filled a tankard with ale from one of the barrels. She drank half of it, finished her food, and downed what remained in one gulp.

Elisa laughed out loud, throwing her chin back. It was clear and lovely. It reminded Hreinn of crystal water.

"Why do you laugh?" Hreinn asked, a smile daring to dance at her lips.

"It's just," Elisa began through chuckles, "you down a tankard faster than most men around here could dream of."

Now a real grin cracked through Hreinn's lips and she let out a quiet laugh.

Then she saw two men approaching. One was the bandit chief and the other was Hagall. Both women quickly became somber and Elisa stood to meet them

"Chief," Elisa addressed the man.

"Go with Hagall, girl," he ordered.

Hreinn rose from the table.

"I hope your cut heals well, Chief," Hreinn said as she passed the man. She saw him tense, and anger flashed across his face.

"Come on," Hagall gripped her upper arm and led her away from Elisa and the chief. Hreinn looked back at the couple conversing at the end of the table. Elisa was pointing at Hreinn.

"Elisa's fine," Hagall growled, jerking Hreinn's arm away. "She can handle herself."

But as Hreinn turned her back, she heard a sharp slap and a grunt of pain.

* * *

Elisa watched as Hreinn was dragged away. She chided herself for becoming attached to the girl. She turned away to return to her room, but the chief grabbed her shoulder and stopped her.

"We need to talk," he said.

Elisa pivoted, facing the man with a stern expression. She looked up into his hard face as he stood towering over her.

"What is it," she asked bluntly.

"You," the man replied. "You and that girl."

"What about us?" Elisa questioned. "I healed her and fed her, just like you ordered, _Chief_."

The man closed his eyes and exhaled.

"We're in the process of breaking her and you act like it's some kind of revelry," he hissed.

Elisa was taken aback.

"You… How can you not see? She has nothing left. She's been broken since the moment you brought her here!" she growled, pointing at the girl being dragged away.

"Oh, no," the chief began. "She's got a bit of fight still."

Suddenly it dawned on Elisa. The order for a poultice. _Chief got sliced yesterday at our last loot._ The blood covering Hreinn's stomach with no open wound. Hreinn's underhanded taunt. _I hope your cut heals well._

Elisa smirked with realization.

"I see now," she began mockingly. "You just want a little revenge because she humiliated you with a kitchen knife."

Suddenly the chief reared back his arm and brought his hand sharply across her face. She grunted with the sting of the blow.

He gripped her face and leaned close.

"Don't you dare mention that again," he hissed. "You follow my orders or your life is forfeit. I say the girl deserves what she gets, and that's the end of it."

Elisa straightened and turned to leave.

"Oh, and, Elisa," the chief called. Elisa didn't bother to face him. "I'm still expecting those poultices."

* * *

Hagall led Hreinn to a room with a few barred cells, closed and locked. One of the cells had the remnants of a skeleton, a few bones scattered across the floor. Hagall dropped Hreinn's arm and pulled a ring of keys from his belt. For the first time as she stood behind him, Hreinn noticed his hair—greasy and matted and pulled into an ugly ponytail at the nape of his neck. Hagall unlocked the door to the first cell and pushed Hreinn inside.

"I think you might need some alone time," Hagall sneered. "Don't you? Been busy all night and all day… Just make sure you spend it wisely. I'm coming back for you tonight, just like I promised."

He snickered as he turned away from her and walked out of the room. The cell was empty except for a small bucket, what Hreinn assumed to be a latrine, and a short table. The only light in the cell radiated from a small candle that sat on the stubby table in the corner. Hreinn kneeled in the dirt next to it and watched as the flame danced. A drop of wax began rolling down the side of the candle. She caught it with her fingertip and let the droplet harden around her skin. She and her brothers used to do this. They'd dip all their fingertips in the wax, and mother would yell at them for wasting the candle.

As she reminisced, Hreinn realized how tired she was and laid down on the hard dirt floor, resting her head on her arm. At least she wasn't aching anymore. At least she was fed. At least her dress was mended. Soon she drifted into sleep.

* * *

She couldn't tell if it had been minutes or hours when she woke again. But the candle burned low and the wax had seeped into the little, wooden table. She recongnized at once that she needed to relieve herself, so she made use of the small bucket in the corner. After she finished, she waited. There was nothing to do but wait.

Soon Hagall entered again. She would have rather waited longer than see his face once more.

"Didn't I tell you?" Hagall chimed. "I did! I told you it was my turn tonight."

A chill raked Hreinn's body as Hagall pulled her from the cell and pushed her before him.

"Oh, yes," he hummed. "We'll enjoy ourselves."

He left her in a room with four beds and a few locked chests saying, "I'll be back. Have patience now." The man's strange words and maniacal grin spooked her nerves. While he was gone, Hreinn prepared herself. She wouldn't fight—it would hurt less. But she still hated it. With her every ounce of her existence she hated it. Silently a few tears dripped from her eyes. Within the hour he returned, bringing with him a bottle of brandy and the stench of alcohol.

"Brought somethin' for ya'," he slurred, extending the bottle to Hreinn. "Drink up now."

She knew the consequence of refusing Hagall would be greater than that of drinking the brandy, so she gulped down the fiery liquid. Grimacing as the acid burn raced down her throat, she dropped the bottle to the floor.

"Impressive," Hagall lulled. "Now let's see what else you can do, little jewel."

He gripped her shoulders and shoved her onto the bed, pinning her down.

"Don't you worry now, we've got plenty of time, girl," Hagall hissed through a grin. "The other boys'll be out drinkin' 'til who-knows-when. Nobody to int'rupt us."

Hreinn didn't cry, didn't speak. But she couldn't contain the whimper that slipped through her lips at the pain. She just closed her eyes and clenched her fists and waited. Waited for it to be over.

Despite his earlier remark, Hagall didn't take his time as the other had. Finally he stood and stepped back into his trousers, giggling.

"Now there," he chirped. "See the fun in it? May be a few other boys in and out tonight so you just sit tight."

As he neared the door he turned suddenly.

"Almost forgot me knife," he said, palming himself on the forehead. "That'd be a shame." He picked the dagger up off the floor and sauntered out, closing the door behind him.

Hreinn sprawled, exhausted, on the cot, with barely the strength to raise a limb. Her arms hung loosely over the edge of the bed like those of a ragdoll.

Another came in that night. The man was big, but it was so dark she couldn't see his face, just his shoulder length hair. He said only one thing.

"There's the little jewel," he had rumbled as he found her body in the dark.

Then he dragged her off the bed and pushed her up against the rocky wall, skinning a part of her back as he lurched. When he left, he dropped her, lifeless, to the floor. As soon as he shut the door, Hreinn released a cry of pain that she had been repressing. She lay face down on the cot gasping when a strand of straw grazed her stinging back as she settled down. But to Hreinn's gratitude none of the owners of the beds returned, so when finally she fell asleep, she slept without interruption, until the morning—or afternoon, she wasn't sure which.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: I know it's been long on the update, but I've just been rewriting some of what I already had together because I rethought a segment of the story.

* * *

The inkling of a feral roar echoed under the door as it bounced off the cavern walls. Hreinn's eyes shot open, heart pumping with the ringing of the terrifying sounds, and gently she swung her legs over the bed and planted her bare feet against the cold, dust floor. Her muscles screamed and burned as she put her weight on her legs, but Hreinn grit her teeth and wriggled into her dress, careful to avoid her still-throbbing back. Silently she inched her way out into the hallway, wary of the growling and roaring resounding off the cave walls. Along with the animal noise there were frantic shouts of men. Hreinn quickened her pace, a hand against the wall to steady herself. She scampered through the cave following the noise of the ruckus, passing through even the empty dining hall before reaching the source.

As Hreinn entered the open cavern adjacent to the dining hall, she saw a hulking black mass lumbering and lurching in the middle of a ring of bandits with weapons drawn. The large animal shifted and Hreinn now paired the growls with the sight before her. A few yards away from her lumbered a black forest bear. It reared back on its hind legs, standing taller than any man there. Claws swiping and spittle flying the animal roared out as it pounded back down to the ground. Father used to talk about these—how they could destroy their farm and house easily if so inclined. Thankfully Hreinn had never seen one. But now the beast, snarling and quivering, snapped its jaws and struck with paws at the armed men around it. Hreinn hugged the rock wall in fear, not daring to venture closer but too afraid to move away. She spied Elisa throwing icy spikes at the animal from her position atop a boulder as she motioned to a bandit on the other side of the bear. The man suddenly began yelling at the beast and whacking his sword against the rocky ground, showering sparks. He wanted its attention. His objective was achieved as the bear clumsily turned. It reared back, preparing to charge against the noisy man. But before it returned to the ground, Elisa leapt into the air, daggers whirling in either hand, and, landing on the beast's muscled back, drove one dagger into its shoulder and gripped the gleaming black body with her knees. The bear roared and contorted, losing its balance. As it fell, Elisa dug her remaining knife into the animal's stout neck, twisting and forcing it deep. It gurgled and grunted, slamming to the floor and pinning Elisa's leg beneath it. She yelled out in pain, straining fruitlessly as she pushed against the motionless body. A few bandits dragged the dead animal off, heaving and grunting, and one helped Elisa to her feet.

As the scene calmed Hreinn clung to the shadows and looked around for the entryway of the beast. She looked across the room to the far side where a hallway opened and sloped upward. Of course, this was the first room after the descent from the surface world. Escape was so close, so attainable.

_I could run away_, Hreinn thought to herself. _I could leave. It could be over._

She would do it. Tonight, she would do it. She would slip away quietly, when they weren't looking. Then she would run until she couldn't any longer. When they would realize she had gone, she would be far away. She would never see them again.

Elisa and the bandit supporting her interrupted Hreinn's thoughts as they shuffled towards her position in the doorway. The woman limped slightly, favoring her left leg, but her ankle was already visibly swollen and abnormal hues of blue and purple were beginning to creep to the surface of her skin. Her entire leg was shrouded in dirt and irritated scratches and cuts. As the two approached Hreinn she flattened herself against the wall out of their path and Elisa kept her eyes on the ground while the man assisting her glared hatefully towards Hreinn, a black, scraggly beard struggling to cover his face.

"You shouldn't be here," he growled angrily.

Hreinn nodded silently in fear.

She sunk to the ground, back against a boulder as more men passed by. She watched a few remaining bandits dismember the bear, carving out its meat and skinning the animal of its hide. Her eyes wandered to the corridor across the cave. Again Hreinn resolved that she would run. She would leave this hellhole for good.

As inconspicuously as possible, Hreinn drew herself away from her cramped position, stomach rumbling and muscles sick with exhaustion. She stumbled through the doorway and saw a number of bandits perched around the tables, eating and drinking loudly. She would find somewhere else to get food.

Off to the side of the room a warm glow emanated from a small entryway and smoke spilled from the roof of the doorway.

_It must be some kind of kitchen_, Hreinn concluded as she approached the room with a hand running along the wall, attempting to evade the bandits' stares. _There should be something to eat._

She slipped into the cramped cave and swooned as the delicious smells flooded her senses. Against the back wall burned two fires, one with a little stewpot hanging over it and the other with a round kettle nestled among the coals. Two tables perpendicular to each other were laden with food of all sorts from apples and carrots to cheese and bread. Spices such as garlic and lavender hung from the ceiling along with pots and pans while in a side room partially separated from the first by a wall of rocks, Hreinn caught a glimpse of a bloody table on which sprawled slabs of meat.

Hreinn leapt towards the tables of food and reached for a bright apple. But in her excitement she hadn't noticed the ponderous man careen around the wall from the room with the table of meat. And as her hand lay on the fruit meaty fingers splotched with blood latched around her wrist and jerked it away from the table, pulling her to face its owner. He was tall and heavyset, dark furry eyebrows contorted in a scowl. His puffy pink lips were surrounded by a thick black beard and his similarly black hair was pulled into a knot behind his head.

"What d'you think you're doin'?" he heaved, cheeks flushed and breath heavy with the scent of herbs.

"I… I," Hreinn stammered, startled with eyes wide.

The man brought the back of his hand across her face, his knuckles crashing painfully against her cheek bone. She bowed her neck and brought a free hand up to the pulsing injury, gasping through her teeth.

"You think you can just take whatever you want?" he demanded loudly, clenching her wrist harder and jerking her arm into the air. "Well, you'd be wrong, lass!"

The large man flung her to the ground by her arm, stepping towards her threateningly.

"Now get out," he ordered, arms folded.

Hreinn scrambled to her feet, quickly putting distance between herself and the man, and eyeing him as she stumbled out of the room. Unwillingly, she pulled herself away from the delicious scents and fresh food. As she stepped out of the doorway, Hreinn saw that bandits still crowded around the tables in the center of the other cave. Her stomach roiled painfully. She would come back later.

Hreinn wandered through the caverns, doing what she could to avoid everybody—crouching behind boulders, kneeling within ferns, slipping into side rooms. At one point she found a cave with a floor littered with a few bedrolls and a stew pot hovering over a small cook fire, sputtering for its last breath. She looked around the room and, finding it to be vacant, dashed to the fire and knelt down closer to the pot, closing her eyes and breathing in the irresistible scent. She touched her hand to the side of the cast iron, checking for heat, and, finding it to be only warm, removed it from the hook and began picking out the chunks with her fingers. Chicken, carrots, potatoes, beans. A gamey meat she couldn't identify. Deer? The stew satisfied her aching stomach and satiated her hunger. Finishing the chunks, Hreinn tilted the pot against her lips, allowing the goopy broth to slide down her throat. Flavor flooded her tongue and she hastily sucked down whatever was left of the stew.

Content for the time being, Hreinn lay on one of the pelts over the ground. For what seemed like a moment, Hreinn let her eyes sink shut. Suddenly something slick and wet was sliding around her lips. Hreinn jerked away, alert with eyes wide. She was met by a shaggy, grinning face, of a mousy, floppy-eared mutt, tongue lolling to the side and mouth panting. Hreinn breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The animal approached her again, tongue slipping over her cheeks and lips.

"Yes, I ate all the food," Hreinn chuckled, fingers combing through the dog's ragged, gray fur. "I'm sure that nose of yours can tell you exactly what it was, too."

"You do seem a bit thin, pup," Hreinn said as she ran a hand over the mutt's bumpy ribs. "Are you hungry, boy…er, girl?"

She peeked between the dog's legs.

"Boy," she concluded with a scratch between the animal's ears.

"Let's see if we can't find something for you," Hreinn said as she stood.

She strode from the room, her new companion trotting close at her heels.

_Surely they'll be gone by now_, Hreinn thought as she ran her hand along the rocky wall. She kept away from most of the bandits along the way, but one blocked her way down a corridor with no way around. He was a fair man with fiery orange hair and scruffy chops. His fur vest exposed his broad chest. Hreinn noticed the dog drop its tail and cringe behind her skirts, as she sidled against the wall.

"I see you found that sorry mutt," he growled, sending a booted foot into the dog's ribs. With a yelp it wriggled closer against Hreinn.

"Don't!" she cried, crouching to wrap her arms around the shaking animal. The man grabbed her by the neckline of her dress and shoved her up against the wall.

"What? You'd rather I 'pick on someone my own size?'" he said angrily, fist clenched. "'Cause I can do that, too!"

Hreinn squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her face away from him, bracing for a blow. Suddenly he dropped her to the ground.

"I've got things to do," he groaned, turning away. "You're not even worth the time or energy."

She breathed a sigh of relief as the dog nuzzled her face affectionately.

"That's why I avoid them," Hreinn whispered, her face buried in the animal's shaggy fur. "But I guess you already knew that."

The two made their way to the dining hall and Hreinn carefully surveyed the tables. A total of three men sat along the benches, talking and drinking. She turned to the mutt and held a hand up to him, motioning for him to stay and hoping that he understood what she wanted. Slowly she backed away from him. To her surprise he remained planted to his position, ribs heaving and mouth panting. Hreinn approached the tables and headed directly for the pile of roasted chicken breast. She felt the bandits' eyes on her as she collected the food with her back turned to them. Without a word from the men she began making her way back to the corridor where the dog waited.

"Three chicken breasts?" one called out as she neared her escape. "You must be hungry, girl."

Hreinn cringed momentarily with head down and shoulders hunched and shut her eyes.

Only turning her head slightly towards them she answered haltingly, "Didn't eat this morning."

"Just seems a bit much for a girl of your size," another voice said.

"I do seem to use a lot of energy here," Hreinn replied slowly. "There's still plenty left if you want it."

She heard a snicker from the group.

"We were just making sure you weren't up to anything," the first voice said. "Go on, girl."

Hreinn hurried from the cavern. But when she rounded the corner back into the hallway, the dog was nowhere to be seen.

_What was I thinking_, Hreinn chided herself. _A dog wouldn't have the mind to sit around waiting on a person it had just met._

She sighed and continued down the corridor. She heard a whining behind her. She turned and saw the dog, stepping out of one of the side rooms, panting and watching with ears drooping.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hreinn whispered with a small smile. "I guess you were smarter than I thought."

She patted the mutt's head and walked into the doorway where he stood, closing the door behind her. Atop a small side table sat a wooden bowl which Hreinn grabbed as she crawled into a corner with the chicken under her arm. The dog trotted over to her, tongue dripping while she tore apart the chicken and piled it into the bowl. Sloppily, the mutt dug its face into the warm food, snapping and licking at the meat. Hreinn giggled at the intensity with which the animal attacked the food. When all the chicken was salvaged from the bones, Hreinn held her hands out.

"That's all of it," she said, as the dog licked her fingers.

He snuffled around until he found the bones, and then laid by Hreinn's lap and gnawed at those also. For a while they rested like that—she with a hand nestled in his fur, and he with his teeth buried in a bone. A joyful warmth filled her as she felt the steady rise and fall of the dog's lean body. If only for a moment, the two remained quiet and fearless. As drowsiness crept up on her, Hreinn's eyelids became heavy and her neck drooped.

But she was quickly stirred from her state when chill shot through her senses, her muscles tensed, and the dog's head bolted from its complacent position, ears erect, as a fist pounded on the door and the reverberation sounded through the small room.


End file.
